


The Happiest Place on Earth

by Lola1b



Series: In Your Arms [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Because they deserve a damned break, Comfort, Disney Fic, Fluff, M/M, Mention of torture, Stucky - Freeform, and a nice vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:30:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola1b/pseuds/Lola1b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They deserve it. They had a long ride on the roller-coaster of Sadness and Despair. They deserve a few nights in the Happiest Place on Earth.”</p><p>Steve takes Bucky to Disney World. Bucky decides to go after what truly makes him happy; Steve.</p><p>Part of a series but also-stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Happiest Place on Earth

Natasha knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later she knocked again. Bucky had been released from his imprisonment at the Avengers compound as of today. It didn't mean he was completely free yet, and he had to be supervised by an Avenger at all times – in case he becomes a danger again, to others and to himself. Natasha thought she'd take him and Steve out to celebrate. She even stayed up until two in the morning to research places that might have 40s nights, so those two idiots could dance. Bucky loved to dance. The first time he was stable and spending time with her and Steve in the living room, she decided to put on some old timely music. His face lit up with recognition and he asked her to dance. She stole many glances at Steve while Bucky spun her round and round. It was a good thing she knew a step or two. She kept up well, and Bucky seemed happy. And best of all, Steve was happy, too.

But he wasn't opening his door. Natasha knocked one more time. Then, when no answer came, she tried the door handle. It was open. She peeked inside to see Steve's orderly room. It was empty and clean, except for the bed, where some clothes were thrown on it. She opened the door wider and saw the open closet and the empty hangers inside.

There was a note on Steve's desk. Even with all the technology of the 21st century, Steve felt most comfortable writing by hand.

_Nat,_

_Stop snooping in my room. If you're looking for me, don't bother. Tony gave me his card. He said we've been through a lot and deserve a vacation. So I took Bucky to the happiest place on earth. We'll be back in a week._

_Steve_

 

Well, that was a surprise.

* * *

 

Steve remembered seeing Snow White in the theaters. It was a little childish for him to see a child's cartoon, but the dates Bucky brought along that night were these two sweet girls, both eighteen, who weren't afraid of being childish. Steve could see Bucky pretend to not be interested in the movie. He shrugged and gave his best smolder, which was still in the developmental stages, but was pretty good nonetheless. “If the ladies want to watch a silly little thing like that, who am I to say no, right, Steve?” It was for the girls, he insisted again when buying the tickets. But the look of wonder in his eyes wasn't something he could hide, even in that dark theater.

Steve smiled fondly, watching Bucky walk up to Snow White now. He wondered how the actor would react if he told her they both saw the movie when it first came out.

“Want a picture?” Steve asked, following behind with the camera. He left his cellphone behind, and anything else that could be traced, just in case. The old camera he had now was modern enough that he could take all the pictures he wanted and print them out himself later, but it couldn't be tracked the way his fancy Stark phone could, not even by Stark himself.

Bucky grinned. “Isn't that why we're here?” he asked, throwing an arm, his flesh arm, over the smiling actress. It was beyond silly. He could feel adults judge them as they walked by with their small children. Two adults – two _men_ – taking pictures with a Disney princess. But Bucky wanted a picture, and he didn't care. He was sure Snow White didn't mind either. Her smile seemed genuine when she looked at Bucky and saw his handsome grin.

The camera flashed. Bucky turned to the actress. She curtsied and he gently took her hand and kissed it. She daintily covered her red lips with her other hand, smiling and twirling around with her long skirt. Bucky winked at her and walked back to Steve.

“What's the long face for? You jealous all the princesses love me?”

Steve shook his head as Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve's shoulders. He looked down at the camera and flipped through the photos. Almost. They almost got them all. Their super-soldier training made them adept at finding them. It almost felt like a mission, albeit a very silly one.

“Alright, who's next on the list?”

Steve pulled out a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket. Most of the names were crossed out already. “Uh, there's an Elsa and Anna. They're both from the same film. _Frozen,_ I think.”

“Huh. That based on some old folk-tale, too?”

“I think from... Scandinavia? I honestly don't know. I haven't really kept up.”

“Huh,” Bucky hummed, his chin pointing up as he thought. They could add that movie to their list. They've nearly seen everything Netflix had to offer by now, at least in the “that's a good one” category, created and maintained by the film enthusiast Mr. Sam Wilson. The “that one sucks major balls,” created and maintained by Mr. Lang, was a category which Steve and Bucky stayed clear of.

“Technically, one of them is a Queen,” Steve continued as they made their way down the street. Families passed them by, laughing, with Mickey Mouse headbands and dripping ice creams. Though it was hot, Bucky kept his hat on low over his face and wore a long sleeved shirt. His – non-weaponized – prosthetic arm was gloved. Steve felt hot just looking at him. Especially when he caught sight of the bead of sweat that gently glided down Bucky's throat to soak into the collar of his white shirt. Steve really needed a cold drink.

“That so? Does it count, then?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. It was very silly. But Bucky was insistent. When Steve mentioned coming here, Bucky grabbed his laptop and googled Disney World. “Googled” was a term Sam taught them. After about two hours, Bucky had a list of things he wanted to do while here. Get a picture with every princess was on it.

They found Elsa and Anna with a group of children. Steve laughed with red cheeks, embarrassed and fond at the same time, as Bucky got right between the two fictional sisters and claimed he'd been searching the whole world for them. They said their rehearsed lines but Steve could tell at least one of them giggled in earnest when Bucky pulled them in closer for the picture. Steve smiled weakly when they turned their grins to him, before quickly fumbling with the camera to take the picture.

“Two at once.”

“Like that one time you went home with both our dates,” Steve added as he looked down at the camera.

“What? No,” Bucky protested, shaking his head. “I never... wait. Yes, yes I did. Sorry 'bout that.”

Steve laughed. Bucky bumped his shoulder against his.

“What's so funny?”

“You don't have to apologize. I'm sure the girl was glad to go with you.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, wrapping his arm around Steve again as they continued down the street. “Anyone who gets to go home with you is lucky. Look at yourself.”

Steve chanced a glance at Bucky's face. It was a mistake. Bucky wore the most sincere of smiles, and it was all for him. Steve took a breath and looked down at his feet.

“Yeah, maybe now. Uh, you wanted to go on some rides?”

Bucky pulled out the pamphlet with all the rides. “Heck yea,” he said grinning as he opened it up and searched around for one close by.

They went on a couple of roller-coasters, and some of the more childish rides, if they were nearby. Bucky cried out enthusiastically on one every one, turning to Steve with a grin each time he sat silently next to him.

“Come on, Rogers! It's the happiest place on earth, for Christ's sake!” he'd say if Steve didn't vocalize his excitement loudly enough. But there was just so much on his mind. Not always in words. Sometimes he couldn't tell what the hell he was thinking about. But every time there was a lull in the excitement, like when they were getting on the rides, or when Bucky went to buy them hot dogs, thoughts assaulted his mind.

He couldn't stop thinking about everything that happened. Everything with Zemo, with Ross, with Hydra... it all sat in his brain, itching like some persistent rash. And then Bucky came back like a cooling salve with a giant smile and two hot dogs smothered in ketchup. But then Steve couldn't stop thinking of _him_. Of the strange tightness in his chest whenever Bucky smiled at him, or the feeling of emptiness when Bucky wrapped his arms around the princesses and they stared at him like he was a model. He could have been. He had the face for it. It wasn't the most handsome face Steve had ever seen, but Bucky had this killer smoldering look that could stop anyone's heart. If Steve wasn't a super soldier, he was sure his heart would have given out years ago.

* * *

 

Bucky wanted those stupid Mickey Mouse headbands. He also had the idea of getting Natasha a gift. And maybe something for the bird man. Steve suggested they got gifts for everyone; especially Tony, who was technically paying for everything. That was another thought that sat heavily on Steve. Tony was an ass. But when hiding with T'Challa was no longer an option, Tony found a way for them both to come home safely. It was hard at first. The restrictions and the interrogations Bucky went through might as well have been torture. But they were both safe now, and they were both free. Tony was responsible for that.

Steve left Bucky alone with instructions to search for a gift for Wanda. He thought that might keep him occupied for a while.

“What do you get a weird girl like her?” He heard Bucky mumble as he made his way toward a public phone outside the shop. He dialed Tony's personal number and leaned back against the phone booth so he could see Bucky through the window of the souvenir store.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Tony,” Steve began. He couldn't help but smile at the light tone in Tony's voice. He'd been a headache for Tony for so long. Steve was sure their personal relationship, whatever it was, would suffer for it. But Tony laughed on the other side and chastised Steve for not having his phone with him. He tried to call to see how their flight was and if they found their way to the park okay. Happy had to fly them down. They were both on a no-flight list, and Tony wasn't able to take them off yet, if ever.

“In case Hydra or whoever tries to track us down. We don't have the entire Avengers compound protecting us here.”

“You realize if someone really wanted to, they'd be able to track you through my card? Like,” there was silence for a moment on the line. “Souvenirs? Oh, get me one of those headbands. And something for Pepper!”

Steve laughed softly.

“But seriously,” a little more silence, “you're being cheap. It's supposed to be a vacation, Cap.”

“Cheap? Have you seen how much this place costs?”

“Cap, you can afford it. Just don't lose the card. By the way, really? The movie resort?”

Steve fumbled with the phone cord. “Too much? It was the cheapest I could find –“

“Did you just get brain damage? Or lose your hearing? I said you can, I mean, _I_ can afford it.” There was more silence on the line. Steve called Tony's name but he didn't reply.

“Tony?” he called again.

“Yeah, I'm here. Sorry, was just making a few arrangements. Uh, hope you don't have anything sensitive in your luggage cause it's being moved.”

“What? Where?”

He could practically hear the smugness. “Well, I can't have my card be used to buy such a cheap vacation. Might ruin my name. Well, technically you _can't_ buy this room, but I'm Tony Stark. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Tony, where –“

“Cinderella's Castle. Apparently poor Walt died before he got a chance to stay in it. Was supposed to be his private room.”

“Tony, that's – you don't have to.”

There was silence again. When Tony spoke again, the smugness was gone. “I hate him. I can't help it. I know he didn't kill my dad, not really. Hydra did.”

Steve's pulse picked up at the mention of Howard's death. If there was one thing he could change about how he went about saving Bucky that time, it'd be to tell Tony about Howard. He'd hate them both the same, but lying didn't helping him. It only made it cut worse.

“Tony –“

“No. Let me finish. I hate him even though I know he had no choice.” His voice was calm. Even. Only a single hint of despair colored the end of Tony's sentences. It still hurt him, but Tony was trying to hide it. Steve wished he had enough heart to care for them both.

He could see Bucky wander around the store with a plastic bag. Their eyes met for a moment. Bucky nodded and went back to wasting time looking through other souvenirs.

“But I saw how it all went down. I heard the things he testified and the... I can't be his friend. If you wouldn't cry like a baby I'd let them take him. So, well, money makes most of my problems go away. Other than the drinking.”

Or Pepper. But Tony thankfully learned that lesson before it was too late.

“So I guess I'm just hoping this vacation will, you know...”

Steve took a deep breath. “Tony, you don't need to do anything to mend our friendship. It's all on me. I promise I'll make it up to you when we come back.”

He heard Tony laugh. “You can make it up to me by actually enjoying yourself. You're a prick when you're anxious.”

Steve laughed gently, his eyes scanning the windows of the souvenir shop. His breath hitched for a moment when he couldn't find Bucky among the stands. Then he saw Bucky come towards him with two ice cream cones and he smiled.

“Thanks, Tony.”

He hung up and accepted the ice cream.

“Getting a bit chilly for ice cream, isn't?” Steve asked. It was getting dark. The sun was low in the sky and he could see stars twinkling overhead.

“Nah. When's that firework show?”

Steve checked his watch and motioned Bucky onward with a smile.

* * *

 

 

“Remember in Brooklyn?” Bucky asked. “There was this older kid one summer on fourth of July. He set off these small red fireworks right between the buildings. My ma yelled at him from the window.”

Steve leaned back on the towel. There was a nice spot on the Polynesian Resort's Beach that a fellow ice-cream eater told them about. They could still see the spectacular fireworks, but without the giant crowds pressing in around them. It was almost private. A few families, and quite a few couples, had the same idea and shared the darkened beach with them. Bucky had his sleeves rolled up. His prosthetic was the same color as his skin, so it wasn't noticeable. Bucky worried at the beginning of this trip that people would recognize him, especially if they saw he had a fake arm. More likely they'd notice Steve, as his face had been plastered everywhere during the manhunt for him, and quite a bit after the Chitari attack on New York, too. But the only time they came even close to being noticed was when the guy who told them about the beach casually pointed to Steve and said; “you kinda look like Captain America. Must be easy to pick up women.”

Bucky's arm was more slender and certainly less powerful than the metal monstrosity that was being slowly repaired in Tony's lab. But it was still powerful enough to support his full weight as Bucky leaned over to point to certain parts of the show that enthralled him the most. It was almost childish. It was almost falsely enthusiastic.

“'Course I'm not amazed beyond all speech to see fireworks. I mean, they're great, but they're still just fireworks,” Bucky said when Steve asked him if he was actually this happy. Bucky lied back on the towel and laced his fingers together over his belly. His smile was distant for a moment, as if he was remembering a bittersweet memory.

“I'm just... Christ, I don't know. I'm happy to be free. I'm happy to be _normal_. I'm happy to...” he trailed off and looked at Steve. He leaned up on his elbows and gave Steve his killer grin. Steve would have had a thousand heart-attacks if he had his pre-serum heart at the sight of this specific grin. It was flirtatious and genuine and happy and intelligent, all rolled into one movement of the face.

“... be here with you,” Bucky finished. Steve tilted his head.

“What?” he asked dumbly.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed.

“I'm happy to be here with you! Geez, do you need me to spell it our for you? See, I remember I always dragged you places. The Expo, all the dances, poker nights. Everything. I always dragged you out and tried to make you enjoy life. I remember that. Unless my brain's tricking me again.”

Steve leaned back on his elbows too so that they were both watching the fireworks from the same angle. They were spectacular and cheers and sounds of awe permeated the beach.

“Trust your brain a little more, Buck. You're getting the hang of your memories.”

Bucky chuckled. “I don't know. I wonder... Sometimes there's thoughts floating around my brain and I think that they can't be true.”

“Well,” Steve says, turning his head towards Bucky, “you can tell me and see if they match up.”

Bucky's eyes went wide for a second before he laughed again. “Oh, hell no. Some of these thoughts are about you.”

Steve stared quietly at Bucky's handsome profile. His eyes seemed to reflect the fireworks. They sparkled with them, like the damned stars. Steve wasn't sure if it was just the show or if Bucky was tearing up. He didn't dare to ask. He just looked back at the fireworks, watching but not seeing anything.

“I'm just happy,” Bucky continued his previous thought, “that you dragged me out this time. That I could let go for a moment. Let go of planning and worrying. It doesn't matter if I remember or not. I know you're here. I know,” he paused. His head tilted toward Steve but his gaze remained on the show. A slow smile spread on his face, and his words came out barely above a whisper. “I know I'm safe with you.”

Steve couldn't help the feeling of utter adoration he had for Bucky. His fingers twitched. He wanted to grab Bucky so badly and press him close to his chest. But he couldn't. He couldn't move at all. He fought against his muscles until finally he managed to place a hand on Bucky's shoulder – awkwardly, as he had to lean the rest of his weight on his other arm, and the sand gave way a little and he sank a bit. Bucky looked at him. Their eyes locked for a long moment and it felt awkward to continue holding on but it felt awkward to let go, too.

“Thank you, Steve,” Bucky whispered. Then he scooted closer. Steve's arm remained in the air, then gently wrapped around Bucky's shoulder as he pressed himself into Steve's side.

Steve swallowed thickly and tucked Bucky's head under his chin. Bucky let out a snorting laugh.

“Lie back, idiot.”

“Huh?”

“I'm tired. Wanna rest my head on you. That okay?”

Steve leaned back in response. They were on a spot on the beach where there was a gentle, natural incline, so even if they leaned back they didn't have to strain too much to see the fireworks. Bucky put his cheek on Steve's bicep. For a moment it was stiff and awkward. Steve had his arm out straight like he was tied down and Bucky kept his hands near his belly, not touching anywhere else, just resting his cheek on Steve. Steve's arm began to cramp up and he gently flexed. That seemed to be some sort of permission for Bucky, as he shuffled up closer and put his cheek on Steve's chest, right next to his neck. His arm swung over his stomach, gently lying there with his fingers gingerly pressing and rubbing up and down Steve's t-shirt.

Steve's heart was pounding so hard. If this was his pre-serum heart, it would have given out in that moment.

Instead, Steve took a few deep breaths and wrapped his arm around Bucky. They continued to watch the fireworks. Somehow during the show, Steve's other hand moved to hold Bucky's hand. Their fingers laced together, sticking firmly as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.

“S'nice,” was all Bucky said.

The show ended. Some of the people gathered on the beach got up and stretched. Others remained where they were, lying or sitting much closer than they were before. Children ran by, giggling, their parents slowly following behind with travel bags.

Steve watched the other patrons for a long moment. Then he stirred. Bucky immediately pulled away. Steve sat up and watched Bucky tuck loose hair behind his ear.

“Uh, it's over, I guess.”

“It's been over for a few minutes now,” Steve replied. Bucky nodded his head and turned slowly to Steve.

“So, I'm kinda tired. Maybe we should head back.” Bucky stood and looked around. “Uh, which way to the hotel?”

Steve almost pointed him toward their old hotel. But then he remembered what Tony said. He hoped it wasn't a joke. He didn't want to show up at the Cinderella Castle with a tired and awe-struck Bucky only to be turned away. But Tony wouldn't be that big of an ass. Might as well check first, though.

“Hey, before we head back, is it okay if we check out the Cinderella Castle?” Steve got up and dusted off his pants. “Nat wanted me to take a picture of us in front of it.”

“That who you were talking to?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky nodded and shrugged his shoulder. “Sure. Lead the way.”

It took them some time to find the correct path to get to the front of the castle. Most people were leaving it, not going in. His cover was almost blown when Bucky said they got the picture and should head back.

“That tired?”

“It was a long day,” Bucky said as he followed Steve inside the castle. “And we still have a long way to go before we can crash into our beds.”

Steve nodded and put his hand on Bucky's back to guide him forward. “It's okay, we're going to be in bed before you know it.”

A woman came up to them with a bright smile. “Hello! Are you Mr. Stark's friend? Your luggage has been taken up to the suite already.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something but was stopped when Bucky gave him a weird look.

“Stark knows we're here?”

“Remember what I said about being in bed before you know it?”

The woman smiled even wider – if that was possible – and told them to follow her.

“I thought you said this room wasn't for sale,” Bucky said. While looking for a hotel, Bucky had seen the Cinderella Suite. It's not that he was a big fan of Cinderella. He was a grown man, after all. But it was so damned fancy, and he jokingly said it's weird knowing people who could afford that sort of room. When they were in Brooklyn, their families barely afforded the small, crappy apartments they lived in.

“It's not,” the woman quipped in before Steve could reply. “But we were informed an hour ago that the family that was supposed to check in today decided to go to a different hotel. They gifted the room to Mr. Stark instead.”

“Huh. _Gifted_ , you say?” Bucky smiled at Steve, who chuckled a little under his breath.

“He finds a way around every rule.”

Their bags were neatly piled next to the beds. Bucky wandered in with weary eyes first. He didn't like that Tony knew exactly where they were. Steve explained to him that buying anything with the card had the consequence of Stark knowing exactly what they were paying for. The woman left and Bucky checked to make sure there weren't any bugs. Steve let him. If it made him feel better, then Steve didn't mind if Bucky acted a bit paranoid.

There was a dinner tray in the lounge room. Bucky picked up the cover and grinned. There were two plates of steak, with a healthy side of veggies and some mashed potatoes. Also champagne, for some reason. And two slices of delicious chocolate cake.

“Thank god. I'm starving.”

Steve made the mental note to thank Tony again later.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve sat cross-legged on the bed closest to the window. It was open, letting in a warm, gentle breeze. The stained glass was beautiful, but outside there were more fireworks, and Steve spent most of his time during the Wishes Spectacular show paying attention to everything but the show. He could still feel the weight of Bucky heavy against his chest. He could feel the texture of Bucky's hair under his fingertips. His hand was still warm from where Bucky's fingers laced with his nearly an hour ago. His breath, when he took it, still tasted of Bucky's scent. He barely watched these fireworks, too.

Bucky came out of the bathroom and quietly came up behind Steve. Steve didn't even hear him until there was a hand on his shoulder. He looked at it then up at Bucky.

“Didn't get enough?” Bucky asked. He was looking down at him, his expression unreadable.

Time seemed to slow. There was something behind Bucky's words that rang with something deeper than a simple question about fireworks. Steve wasn't sure where his confidence came from then. He supposed he was always brave when it mattered. And this mattered.

He gently took Bucky's hand in his, stroking his thumb over the flesh of Bucky's palm.

“Not nearly enough.”

It was Bucky's turn to swallow thickly. Steve watched his throat, the veins becoming more defined for a brief moment before smoothing back out among the stubbled neck. Bucky stared at their joined hands while Steve watched him. When Bucky made no sound or movement, Steve dropped his hand gently and turned back to the window. He supposed he wasn't that brave after all.

But Bucky was. He knelt on the bed. Steve turned to him and nearly crashed his face into Bucky's chest. He leaned back a little to give Bucky room. Whatever was supposed to happen in that moment, whatever Bucky thought of doing, passed and nothing happened. Bucky sat on the bed, his leg awkwardly under his body. They both stared out the window. The fireworks were okay at best. Next to the Wishes Spectacular, they were nothing.

Steve rubbed his neck and put his hand down next to his legs, his fingers playing with his own nails. Bucky leaned forward, pretending to look for a better angle to see the fireworks, but Steve knew he was doing something else entirely. His shirt's collar dragged down, exposing his collarbone.

“Pretty, right?” Steve asked, turning his gaze back to the window. Bucky sighed and looked down at the bed.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

When Bucky said nothing, Steve slowly turned to him. Bucky was still staring at the bed.

“I think we gotta talk. Remember what I said earlier? About thoughts I wasn't sure were true or not?”

Steve nodded with a slight frown.

“Well, maybe...” Bucky looked up. His eyes were round and innocent. Steve wanted to grab his face, to twist his fingers into his soft hair, and never let go. “Maybe you can help me sort one thought out, after all.”

Steve nodded slowly. “Lay it on me.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Steve's.

Steve jerked back in surprise. Bucky pulled back, his brows rising quickly in hurt surprise before he schooled his face into something neutral.

“Sorry. I told you they were weird thoughts. I don't know where they come from or why –“ Bucky stopped when Steve reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Stop, Buck. They're not weird.”

Bucky laughed and rolled his eyes. “Then why you moved away?”

“I was surprised. And...” He scooted closer to Bucky and took his hand in both of his. He sighed and stared at their connected fingers. He didn't want to say this. But lies and omissions only made his life harder. It was time for the truth.

“I didn't want to move away. I wanted to...” He shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't look up at Bucky. “I wanted to do that – the kiss – and, well, other things, too. The issue is, you still don't remember everything. And sometimes, you remember less. And you're technically under my supervision. Hydra, they never let you choose. They took away your consent. I didn't want you to feel like you had to, you know, feel the same, in order for me to stick with you.” He chanced a look up at Bucky's wide, confused face.

“You think... you think I wouldn't consent to this? Even though I started it?”

“I think you might not be in the right place to give consent, or to fully understand what you're doing,” Steve said gently. Bucky's face slowly pulled into something like despair. It was like telling a kid they're not going to Disney World after all.

Steve moved closer and gently grabbed Bucky's head. He pulled it into his shoulder and wrapped his arms around Bucky's shoulders.

“I started it. I'm consenting.”

“I know.”

“Then what?”

Steve sighed and pulled away. “And what about tomorrow? What if I, I don't know, want to kiss you, and you don't remember me?”

Bucky shook his head. “I wouldn't forget you.”

“But what if you do? Or what if you remember something that makes you not want to...” He stopped. Bucky tried to forget what he told them in that interrogation room. It's what Steve suggested, too. Just forget. It was easier than trying to talk to Bucky about it. He didn't want to, no matter how gently Steve tried to bring it up. It was either be consumed by the memory, a memory Bucky didn't know he had until they prodded around in his brain, or forget it. “It's just not a good idea.”

Bucky sighed, his shoulders sinking low. He looked up at Steve sheepishly. “So, not even a goodnight kiss?”

Steve stared at him for a moment. He wasn't making this easy. “Don't tempt me,” Steve warned. “I'll feel guilty after.”

Bucky stood up, ripping his hand out of Steve's grasp. “I'm not a goddamned victim! Stop treating me like I'm some fragile – ” he stopped. He let out a frustrated cry and grabbed his hair. He turned away from Steve and his shoulders rose in three deep breaths. “Steve, I need you. More than I need your stupid sense of justice. All I want is to show you how I feel. How I think I feel at least.”

“And that's it,” Steve said gently. His fingers were white where they gripped the bed sheets. “You _think_. You don't know.”

“Does anyone ever?” Bucky asked as he spun around to look at Steve. His eyes were so full of hurt that Steve almost forgot all his reservations. “We can make a deal. We can make it so we only, you know, show any affection if I initiate it. Or only if I say I'm consenting. Don't pull some crap on me about how I'm some mental patient who can't decide what they want.”

“Can you?” Steve asked, challenging Bucky with a steady look. He should have ended it and went to sleep. He should have walked outside and sat by the elevator until Bucky calmed down. He should have extracted himself from the situation. Instead, he stood up, and watched Bucky as he stalked straight at him.

“Yes,” Bucky said before he grabbed Steve's face with both hands and pressed their lips together roughly.

He should have pulled away. He should have said no. He shouldn't have gently grabbed Bucky's elbows and pull him closer. He shouldn't have wrapped both arms around Bucky's waist, feeling his fingers along the curve of his lower back. He shouldn't have tilted his head to the side, letting Bucky deepen the kiss. He shouldn't have made such a strangled noise of relief and happiness that Bucky crashed harder against him, pushing them both back until his knees hit the bed.

Steve's legs folded and he sat on the bed, his hands falling back to steady himself. Bucky leaned over him, his hands covering Steve's, his face so close they could feel each others' breaths.

“If there's anyone who should be worried about taking advantage of anyone, it's me,” Bucky said. His eyes were dark and dangerous, peeking out from long, dark bangs. He looked so intense and fierce that Steve could feel his whole body heat up. He tried to lean a little away but Bucky followed him until their breaths were mingling again. He didn't want to lean back more. If Bucky fell on top of him now, there would be no stopping.

“How you figure that?” Steve asked through burning lungs. He couldn't breathe when he looked at Bucky's face. But he couldn't look away, either.

“Because you think I'm as fragile as fucking glass. Everything that you saw in that interrogation room, that's behind me. I wanna forget it. But I gotta worry that you're only doing what I want because you're scared I'll break. But I won't.” They remained like that for a long moment. Bucky waited for Steve to say something. But Steve couldn't form a coherent thought. Eventually, his thoughts cleared, and he chuckled low in his chest. It was so silly. He was arguing with the love of his life, a fellow super-soldier enhanced by science and medicine, in a room that housed a glass slipper and had mosaic tiles with pumpkins on them in the bathroom.

“What's so funny?”

“Our first kiss. And we had to argue about it.”

“ _You_ argued about it.”

Steve shook his head with a smile. “Sorry, Buck.” He reached up and gently pulled Bucky's head down, closing that inch of space that was between them. Bucky melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to wrap around Steve's neck. Steve fell back against the bed, laughing when that broke the kiss and Bucky nearly slid off to the floor.

“I told Sam you liked being fucking dramatic,” Bucky mumbled as he crawled back onto the bed. They lied side by side on their backs, their hands meeting in the middle.

“Dramatic?”

“Yeah. Like a fucking prima donna.”

Steve snorted out a laugh and turned over on his side to nuzzle his nose against Bucky's neck.

“S'nice.”

Bucky's chest rumbled with laughter and he turned on his side, too, to press a chaste little kiss to Steve's nose.

“Really hate you sometimes, Rogers.”

“Sure you do,” Steve said, closing his eyes. Bucky was warm and soft and Steve wanted to fall asleep right there.

“So, guess that other stuff's off the table for now.”

Steve's eyes crinkled with amusement and he tried to hold back the laugh. “Someone's eager.”

“You got no idea. Uh.”

Steve opened his eyes. Bucky was staring down at the sheets, his forehead pressing against Steve's.

“I love you. I think.”

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly, gently taking Bucky by the arm and pulling him closer until they were flush against each other. “I love you, too.”

“Cuddling is okay, right?”

Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead. “Cuddling is just fine.”

“Then get under the damned covers. I wanna sleep.”

The night ended with laughter echoing through the room, more following when Bucky accidentally detached his arm trying to take off his shirt and needed help untangling himself. Soft chuckles followed as Steve's fingers lightly traced over Bucky's exposed sides before he pulled a clean shirt over his Bucky's head, even among protests that “it's too damn hot in here already.”

And in the end, soft wheezes of laughs, little puffs of air, quietly passing between them as they flirtatiously berated each other, as their heavy eyes closed, and they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

 

“It was really nice of you,” Natasha said. Tony just shrugged his shoulders. “I mean it, Tony. We all know how you feel about Barnes.”

Tony wouldn't look up. He continued to play on his phone, his mouth resting on his hand. “Mm-hmm.”

“Fine, be that way,” Natasha said with a smile. “But we all expect a vacation now.” She turned to go. She was at the doorstep when she heard Tony snort in laughter. She turned back and he finally looked up at her.

“They deserve it. They had a long ride on the roller-coaster of Sadness and Despair. They deserve a few nights in the Happiest Place on Earth.”

Natasha smiled as she turned to leave. They all joked about it privately, but she _knew_ ; the happiest place on earth for them was in each others' arms.  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and constructive criticism welcome! 
> 
> Also please forgive any inaccuracies. I've never been to Disney.


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